The PTB 500 Challenge
by TheFanWhoWasntThere
Summary: These are short pieces I wrote for the Project Team Beta 500 word challenge with word prompts. Just a little something to get the imagination flowing. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**So these are short pieces I wrote for the Project Team Beta 500 word challenge, to get myself out of a writing slump. I don't know why FF tells me some of them are more than 500 words now, but they're legal within the limits of my own computer anyway, lol. Hope you enjoy them, and please tell me if anything catches your fancy by reviewing!**

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**Weapon.**

The line in Starbucks seemed endless. She sighed, hitching her bag up higher, feeling the ache in her shoulder and regretting the heels already. She'd do anything for coffee right now. She really needed something to take her nervous mind off this job interview.

"Can I help you?" She was jolted out of her trance by the barista's voice. Transfixed by a pair of beautiful green eyes she felt her mouth go dry and her mind blank. His grin softened as she felt an embarrassing blush heat her face.

"Coffee?" he helpfully prompted her.

"Oh, um, yes! A venti cappuccino, please."

"Anything else?" His eyes on her were still amused, and she started coughing as she shook her head, fumbling for her purse.

"N ... no, thank you!" Passing the bills across the counter, their hands brushed each other and she felt a tingle at the brief contact. _I must be going crazy_, she thought, unable to tear her gaze away from the soft curve of his lips and his sharp jawline. _I probably need to get laid._

"Your name?" She opened her eyes wide at the question but then quickly held her hand out above the cash register.

"Bella. What's yours?" He looked surprised, then grasped her hand and shook it briefly, laughing. There was a fan of laugh lines around his eyes when he smiled and she wanted to stay right there and count them.

"I'm Edward. I'll get you your coffee now, Bella."

As she moved forward to join the rest of the crowd waiting for their coffee, she realized why he'd asked for her name and her blush deepened. She tried to hide behind a burly man in a suit reading the Financial Times until she heard her name called. She accepted her cup from a petite blonde girl without seeing any further sign of Edward, and slunk out the door into the grey street, swallowing her disappointment.

Clutching her coffee she ran through the drizzle down the street to the bus stop, catching the bus at the very last minute and sank gratefully into the last unoccupied seat. As she lifted the fragrant cup to her lips she noticed her name in an elegant black script that seemed to continue. She pushed the sleeve down to see.

_Bella – your blush is a deadly weapon. Please heal me with your smile. Edward_. And a phone number.


	2. Chapter 2

**Adventureful**

The music was pounding through the apartment. She sat hunched on the couch, clutching a warm bottle of beer between her hands, shivering in spite of the heat of the room whenever a thread of cold winter air from the open door to the balcony where the smokers were crowded blew across her thin silk blouse. The blouse had been a mistake, like the beer, both borrowed behind her parents' backs.

She glanced up at the lanky, blond young man beside her on the couch. His sleepy eyes were a dark blue, almost black, and the slow smile that curled his lips made him look pretty and dangerous at the same time.

"So, you play?"

She had to lean in to hear him over the beat that shook the floor, and then nodded.

"Yeah. Only acoustic guitar, though. I write my own songs." She thought briefly of all the songs sitting in her folder at home. Songs of green eyes and treacherous boys.

"I have a band. You should show me some of your songs. Maybe we could cover them."

He leaned in closer and she could feel the herbal smell of pot and cigarette smoke and an unfamiliar but pleasant scent of man. Not boy.

She knew immediately when Edward walked in the door from the kitchen because she felt her whole body go rigid like a pointer dog sensing prey. Out of the corner of her eye, head held high, she watched him wrap his arm around the blonde girl he was dating now. She was beautiful and his age. His equal.

As if he'd read her mind the black-eyed man snaked long fingers around her neck, tracing the pale skin across her chin and cheek with his fingertips as she turned to him, ending up with his thumb pressed against her bottom lip.

"I like this," he said as he pinched her lip and then let go. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Seventeen." She swallowed. The lie came easily.

"You want to go some place more quiet?"

She stared into his inky eyes and felt the pull deep in her gut. What was it her mother used to say? "Don't drink. Don't walk alone at night. Don't follow strangers." Well, at least she wouldn't walk alone.

She didn't look over her shoulder as she walked ahead of her companion into the hall and started rooting through the piles of shoes and coats. Edward wouldn't notice if she left. He hadn't looked at her all night.

The ice cold air outside was dry and crisp with new snow and the stars diamond sharp, cut-out holes in a flat black paper sky. They walked side by side without speaking the blocks to his house, which was dark and quiet, old and deserted-looking. As he let them in he smiled at her, that slow smile which hooked her like a fish.

"I'm Jasper, by the way. What's your name?"

She hesitated.

"You can call me Isabella."


	3. Chapter 3

**Procrastinator**

"See you tomorrow, Edward!"

The door banged as Jasper disappeared outside, leaving Edward standing by his locker, slowly packing his bag with homework. The halls were deserted, faint sounds from the school offices on the second floor the only sign that anyone was still in the building. The fluorescent lights flickered, reflecting in the glossy green paint of the locker doors.

Edward sighed and his shoulders slumped as he reluctantly admitted to himself that he must have missed her again. He took a detour by the entrance to the school library just to make sure she wasn't lingering in there, but the door was locked and there was no sign of her anywhere.

He dragged his feet across the empty yard, the spring wind harsh as it whipped around him, blowing dust into his face. He shivered. It was probably creepy the way he kept hanging around, trying to catch a glimpse of her. She'd probably freak out if she knew. But how would he ever get up the nerve to speak to her? She was a senior. And she was beautiful.

The parking lot was practically empty and he walked down the street three blocks until he got to the bus stop. Hunching his shoulders against the wind he eyed the gaming hall across the street that was off limits during school hours. Permanently off limits to him because only the cool kids hung out there.

He straightened as he saw a familiar form round the corner and walk towards the gaming hall. Slender, with dark hair blowing in a cloud around her pale face, dressed in black skinny jeans, a beat-up leather jacket and black high-tops; she looked perfect. Cool. He swallowed.

Suddenly, she looked up and their eyes locked across the street. Before he knew it, he was running, barely avoiding getting hit by a truck before he reached the other sidewalk. Her brown eyes were wide as he stopped before her, breathless.

"Hey. You're Bella, right? I'm Edward."

She licked her lips, and he almost mirrored her move, hypnotized by the pink tip of her tongue

"Edward." She sounded breathless, too. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing." He couldn't help smiling and felt his heart soar when her lips curled in response.

She shrugged. "Some days, I just don't feel like going home after school, so I … hang around."

She looked down scuffing her feet on the sidewalk and then glanced up at him under her lashes. "The apartment just feels too empty."

He frowned. "There's no one home at your place?" His hands clenched, longing to touch her.

She shook her head, then looked away.

"I lived with my Gran. She died and left the place to me."

He swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Her dark eyes gleamed, transfixing him.

"Don't be. Wanna wait for the bus inside with me?" She nodded to the door.

He followed her wordlessly into the black room. He could probably wait forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Graceless**

I was an idiot. I didn't know what to do with myself. I just sat there, wiping tears and snot from my stupid face. I'd actually stumbled on the gravel path, tripping over a stone the size of my thumb nail. Here I was on a bench, rubbing my raw palms across my dusty jeans. I hurt, inside and out. How could he do this to me? And how could I have been so oblivious?

It had started with a call from the gynecologist, asking me to come back in so they could "talk to me about my test results". At first I'd felt my stomach drop thinking I was pregnant but, right away, I'd known that wasn't it. I was on the pill. And I'd had my period just a week ago. Cancer? I wished they'd just told me on the phone, but I had to come in for an appointment that afternoon, my insides in knots.

I couldn't believe it when the doctor gently told me I'd tested positive for Chlamydia. Those tests were standard procedure but I never thought they would ever show anything. After all, I'd been with the same man for ten years, my childhood sweetheart; how much could be happening in that department? But evidently I was wrong. Someone else had happened.

I was waiting for Edward when he got home, my hands clenched into fists, my heart beating its way out of my chest.

"Who is it then? Who have you been cheating on me with?" I didn't recognize my own shrill voice.

He just stared at me, his handsome face blank. I thought about all the late nights at work, all the conference trips, and the room went white. I picked up the nearest thing, a book, and threw it at him. He ducked, still bewildered but pale.

"Since I've only been fucking you these past ten years and one doesn't get Chlamydia from toilet seats, you must have been fucking your skanks bare, Edward. How could you? You foul, bloody, ugly bastard! How could you do this to me, to us?"

By that time I was crying freely, and his instinct was to walk towards me, hands held up to protect himself or to try to hold me, I didn't know. I just knew that if he touched me I would throw up. I circled to the front door and burst out like a rocket onto the street.

My refuge was always the park. I left the car by the curb and walked blindly along the darkening paths until I tripped and fell, then dragged myself to a bench and sat there sobbing. My life was officially over.

"Bella? Hey! What's the matter?"

I looked up through a blur of tears. Jacob jogged to a stop in front of me. His big hand rested gently on my aching knee as he crouched down by me, huge and warm.

I clutched onto his hand like a drowning woman.


	5. Chapter 5

**Huntsman**

He was sitting alone in a corner of the subway train, watching from the shadow of his hood.

The girls had stepped onboard a few minutes ago and were too busy giggling and talking about the movie they'd just seen and the boys they liked to notice him. They were maybe seventeen or nineteen years old – his age. But man, how much younger they seemed to his old eyes.

The blonde was the flashiest among them, curvy and obviously sexy, loud in a way that made him twitch with the longing to shut her up. Beside her the little elfin girl with black hair looked like a kid sister, but he could see from her perky tits and tight little ass in the jeans she wore that she was probably older.

He looked away, judging the train's progress, making his plans.

When he saw the brown-haired girl frown at her cellphone before sticking it in her back pocket he knew he'd have an easy kill. He was good. She probably wouldn't even notice him there before he'd done the deed.

He had a hard time taking his eyes off her, the curve of her cheek, her graceful but vulnerable white throat, her dark hair swinging to the rhythm of the train, flowing down her lithe back. He swallowed, hard.

When he felt sure they were about to exit he carefully walked up behind them. None of them noticed him; they were leaning against one another, talking, happy. He was so close now he could smell the brown-haired girl, and, just for a moment, her scent went to his head. He felt dizzy, as if the dirty floor was spinning under his feet.

Then the doors opened with a sigh, sucking them out onto the warm platform where the air smelled of stone, dust and hot metal. Summer city smells, underground smells.

Like the underground creature he was, he brushed by her so carefully she barely glanced at him before he took off down the platform and up the stairs. His feet were thrumming in time with his heart and he held her phone clutched in his hand.

As soon as he was out of range of the cameras he thumbed it open. Her heart-shaped face smiled up at him. Eyes like brown sugar. Lips like cherries. And her name: Bella. It melted sweet as ice cream on his tongue.

He started going through the phone as he walked down the noisy street, weaving in and out among the drunks and the Friday night crowds, then startled as it went off in his hand. "Rose" flashed across the screen. He hesitated, then picked up against his own better judgment.

"You fucking bastard, whoever you are, you're so dead for taking Bella's phone!" It was the loud blonde.

He held the phone away from his ear, and smirked into it when it went quiet.

"Put Bella on, Rose. I'm giving her the phone back. In exchange for a date."


	6. Chapter 6

**Redhead**

"Say you're sorry, pig!"

It always ended this way, but that didn't stop the boy from trying. Lying on his stomach in the schoolyard, with his right arm twisted painfully across his narrow back and his cheek rubbed raw against the gravel he pinched his lips tightly shut.

"I said, say you're sorry, Red!"

His tormentor had a knee pressed into his back and was firmly planted on his legs, so there was no getting away this time. As involuntary tears of pain and frustration rose in his eyes, the boy with the tousled, auburn hair swallowed a sob and vowed that he would never speak. Maybe howl in pain, but never say he was sorry.

"What's going on here?"

The pressure lifted from his back immediately, and scuffling noises followed when most of the on-lookers fled from approaching authority. Slowly, carefully, the boy rolled over, sat up and rested his forehead on his knees to collect himself.

When he gazed up through a blur of unshed tears he saw someone leaning down towards him. It was the new, pretty teacher, Ms. Swan. He looked around, but everyone had disappeared, either around the corner of the building or across the lawn and into the trees.

"Edward, isn't it? Are you all right? What happened?"

Ms. Swan knelt down in front of him, and her long, dark ponytail curled forward across her shoulder. Her scent drifted to him across the few feet separating them and he inhaled without thinking. Flowers.

The boy shook his head, but couldn't stop his lips from trembling. Weakness. He loathed himself in that moment, his own physical weakness as well as the impotent rage and the sadness that felt too big for his body.

"We got into a fight, Ms. Swan. I lost. It's nothing, really."

She was touching him, hesitantly pushing back the hair that was falling into his eyes, and then she brought out a tissue and gently wiped the dirt from his face. He wanted to flinch away and lean into her touch at the same time. Her dark eyes looked troubled and she was biting her full bottom lip. He felt himself staring, flushed and looked down.

"Edward, I think you're not telling me everything. Did someone tease you or bully you? It's against school rules to fight, but I don't think you're the fighting kind, Edward. Will you tell me?"

The boy shook his head, but a sigh left his thin body and he surprised himself by saying a name.

"Alice."

It hung in the dusty air for a moment.

"They were saying bad things about my sister."

Ms. Swan rested her soft hand on his hair briefly, then helped him to his feet and brushed him off.

"Okay, Edward. No one has the right to do that. Would you mind telling me a little bit more?"

While he limped away by her side he started talking, words slowly unwinding the threads of barbed wire tangled around his heart.


	7. Chapter 7

**Dimple**

I knew I was lost the minute she smiled at me. I held my breath, looking at the new girl out of the corner of my eye, pretending to look down at my homework. Long, brown hair fell across her face, obliterated those dark eyes and pale cheeks and made my whole body tingle, antsy with anticipation. But then she raised her head, caught me looking at her, and before I could look away she bit her lip and smiled at me. A perfect dimple formed in her perfect cheek. I sucked in a much-needed breath and went back to staring at the Boston Tea Party.

It was months later that I got up the nerve to speak to her. Summer break had started and we were hanging out at the local pool, me and my brother. He was horseplaying with the girls as usual while I hung back. I never knew what to say, how to make a girl laugh. As my head broke the surface of the blue water, something touched my shoulder. I blinked, my eyes stinging from the chlorine and dazzled by the sun. A slender foot was gently tapping my shoulder and as I tilted my head back I locked eyes with the pretty new girl. She smiled.

"Hey, Edward."

I tried hard not to stare at her boobs in the blue bikini top and instead my eyes found her long, coltish legs. There was a dimple on the side of her knee that winked at me as her legs swung. I swallowed and collected my fractured thoughts.

"Hey, Bella isn't it? You look great in that bikini!"

It took me a year to work up the nerve to kiss her, and when I did it was everything I dreamed it would be; soft, warm, wet, achingly sweet and completely addictive. Her hands wove their way into my hair and I found myself making embarrassing noises as she dragged her nails softly across my scalp and ran the silky tip of her tongue along my trembling lips. I could feel her smile and I couldn't resist licking that tiny indentation I'd already grown to love.

We were seniors before we got the chance to spend the night together in my house, on a rare weekend without parental supervision. The first time I saw her naked in my bed under the soft light from the desk lamp, my heart almost burst because she was so lovely. She blushed and turned on her side a little, away from my stare. For the first time I saw the two small dimples low on her pale back, just above the mind-blowing swell of her perfect ass. It was then I knew where to start exploring the wonderland that was Bella Swan on this magic first night of the rest of our lives together.

"Don't move. You're perfect. I love you, Bella."

And I kissed my way from dimple to dimple all the way home.


	8. Chapter 8

**So, I submitted an entry to the Bandward Contest, The Hands That Rocked My World, and now that the contest is over I've incorporated a snippet of EPOV from that story into this entry. It takes place some time after Edward meets Bella at the afterparty and about a year before they meet again. Don't hate him: he IS a mess!**

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**Forgivable.**

He rolled over in bed and his body hit something soft. Not a pillow. He breathed in without opening his eyes. Perfume, sweat, sex, woman. His head was aching and his mouth was filled with cotton. He opened his eyes to a squint, and in the grey light filtering in through the window he saw her copper hair spilling across his hotel room pillows. His eyes widened painfully and his stomach turned to ice.

Scrambling out of bed he muttered to himself "No fucking way", and felt the pain hit him between the eyes like a dull knife as he stumbled for the bathroom. His heart was racing. He locked the door behind him and leaned against the counter, drawing deep, ragged breaths. It was a mistake. He'd made a mistake.

He raised his head and looked with loathing at his own reflection. Bloodshot eyes, unshaven jaw, hair unwashed and falling all over the place. He'd told himself this would never happen. You don't shit where you eat. He sighed, splashed his face with ice cold water and drank some from the tap to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth. It was time to face the music.

As he slowly opened the bathroom door he saw that she was awake, stretching her arms over her head and arching her beautiful, naked body like a cat. She smiled at him, a voluptuous come-hither smile, and her amber eyes twinkled. Damn, how could the woman look like that after the night that left him looking like a homeless wreck?

"So, that was unexpected, Edward," she purred.

"Yeah," he looked uneasily about the room for his clothes, found his jeans on the floor at the end of the bed and pulled them on awkwardly.

Her eyes clouded over and the corners of her pretty mouth twisted. She sat up in bed, mirroring his instinct to cover up by pulling the sheets up to her chest.

"I see. You're not comfortable about this, are you?"

He sighed, pulled his hands through his hair and tried hard to look her in the eye. He had to save this, somehow, for all of them.

"Look, Tanya, last night was beautiful, perfect even, but still, this was a mistake. We're friends, partners, not lovers. What we have is so much more than sex, and I don't want to risk it. It's all my fault, I know that. I'm a mess. I shouldn't have let it go this far. Can you forgive me?"

Tanya looked at him with a face like thunder, chewing on her full bottom lip. She was as attractive as ever, but his cock didn't even twitch at the memory of her lips. He needed her in other ways.

"Edward, you're a bastard. But I knew that. Look, if I forgive you, will you promise me something? Stop. Screwing. Around. For us. For the band. Okay?"

All he felt was relief.

"Okay. I promise."

They both smiled.

"Then, you're forgiven."


	9. Chapter 9

**Gamble**

She was walking home after work one spring afternoon, skirting the edges of the park, when she heard voices and laughter. The restaurant in the park was hosting a reception of some kind: she saw women in colorful dresses and men in suits clinking glasses and drifting around on the lawns, talking. She was tired, her lungs cramped and her skin dry after hours in the windowless stacks down in the basement, not really eager to get back indoors. She ran her hands over the swishing skirt of her blue dress and looked down at her matching low heels. Maybe …?

She furtively rolled up her light coat and left it behind some dense foliage, then let herself drift into the crowd of guests while making a slow, circular movement, like water circling a drain. Nobody seemed to notice her entrance. She picked up a glass of sparkling wine from a tray and watched the tiny bubbles catch the afternoon sunlight. The air under the trees was fresh and damp and smelled of flowers.

She sipped the wine and smiled shyly whenever someone looked at her. Eyes drifted over her politely, without curiosity, and then passed on like they usually did. She felt invisible, daring and new.

A tap on her shoulder made her twirl around so quickly her purse flew out from her body on its long strap, hitting the stranger square in the gut.

"Ooof! Sorry if I scared you. I was just going to introduce myself." He was handsome, a head taller, and with the most amazing green eyes that twinkled at her, amused.

"I'm Edward, and I don't know anyone here except the groom, apparently. What about you, are you bride or groom?"

She gathered her wits, heart pounding, and then held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Bella. I'm neither, really, I just came with someone who knows the bride." He held onto her hand a little longer than necessary, and as his hand slid away from hers his fingers caressed her palm. Or at least she thought they did. His beautiful eyes on her were different from others, intense, as if he actually _saw_ her. She swallowed.

He smiled and said, "So, what do you think about this rehearsal cocktail party idea? I know I've had my share of boring rehearsal dinners with stuffy family members."

She couldn't stop looking at his mouth, which was wide and expressive with lips that seemed made for kissing. _Kissing?_

She blushed and replied, "Actually, it was an accident that I dropped in here. I won't be staying." She looked around for somewhere to put down her glass. This had been a mistake, a misdirected attempt to feel normal.

She looked down when she felt his hand on her arm.

"Bella, would you rather have coffee with me?"

She hesitated. But maybe it was time to take a leap?

Her answering smile was the _yes_ he wanted.


End file.
